


March, 2030

by ussnicole



Series: Welcome to Suburbia [12]
Category: Jon Bellion (Musician)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Blasphemy, Depression, Dysphoria, F/M, Future, God - Freeform, Guillotine, He has nothing to do with Jon Bellion, Human, I don't know why but Oliver Sykes is a character, Love, Luxury, Recreational Drug Use, Religious Themes, Songfic, Suburbia, faith - Freeform, fall from grace, maybe idk, oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-04 12:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12770655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ussnicole/pseuds/ussnicole
Summary: Uncertainty in Suburbia.Jon never understood much about the grand scheme of things.





	1. Maybe IDK

Jon sat on the edge of the couch, reaching for the blunt as it circled the room. Leaning back once it had reached him, Jon took a long drag from it and then exhaled slowly, laughing and relaxing into the sofa. As the joint went further away, however, he began to get agitated and turned to his friend Oliver anxiously.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” Jon told him hurriedly, patting his pockets and then bracing himself against the couch as if he was about to jump up. Oliver just grabbed his arm and rolled his eyes, waving off his concern.

“Chill out, mate. You’re just getting paranoid again,” he reassured Jon, eyes lighting up as he noticed the blunt coming back around. Reaching across Jon to receive it, he puffed on it a few times and then offered it to Jon. Jon waved it off, standing carefully and shaking his head.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Navigating through the throngs of people mingling in his high-rise, very expensive flat in downtown Suburbia, Jon rubbed his eyes and sighed. He couldn’t remember why he had agreed to having this party at his place, but he didn’t like to say no to his friends. A lot of the time, Jon felt that they only hung out with him and liked him because he was so willing to do stuff or let them do stuff; he hated saying no. It was a terrible habit he needed quite desperately to shake.

Dodging two drunk girls who had just enough purpose in their eyes for Jon to know to avoid them, he found the front door and slipped out of it. It was, of course, wide open; it seemed like everyone in the entire building was inside his flat. Sighing, he traipsed his way up to the roof, rubbing his eyes and ignoring the headache blooming in his temples.

It was cold up on the roof, a steady breeze ruffling his hair and piercing through his thin t shirt. Spring was on its way but the remains of winter clung to the air and left him with chills down his spine. He had not stayed in the room with the blunt long enough to get completely stoned, and the fresh air cleared his head quickly.

Leaning against the edge of the building, Jon looked down to the street below. He was tempted for a minute to vault himself over the edge and fall, leaving behind everything. Of course, that wouldn’t happen. The gravity safe-nets would kick in and whisk him safely to the ground, where an automated Medi-pod would take him to the nearest hospital and he would be on suicide watch for two days.

Unfortunately, Jon knew this from personal experience.

To be fair, that was before he had rediscovered religion. He had been baptized as a child, just like most of his friends. But technology had jumped forwards so fast, and the church had been left behind by most of the newer generation; instead, they worshiped money and fame. Jon had been carried along with the tide of advancement and innovation, forgetting his very humble roots and the community he had grown up in.

It was only after he had tried to end his life in a few creative ways (all thwarted, thanks to the goddamn technology he had grown up worshipping) that Jon turned back to the church, looking to God instead of the fame industry. Immediately his life had taken a turn for the better. He felt happier, he had faith, and he didn’t care so much about the money. His friends all found it weird but didn’t ask much; they were usually too busy getting drunk or high.

Even so, he still fell from grace. His apartment was full of strangers, wasn’t it? He still doubted, but maybe that was okay. If he knew what tomorrow would bring, he wouldn’t need faith. If he knew what his life had in store for him, he wouldn’t need God.

Pushing away from the edge of the building, Jon headed back in. Carefully picking his way around the party, he made sure that no one was overdoing it or being taken advantage of, pulling drinks away from unsteady people and guiding a few to sit down or to the bathroom. He spent the rest of the night taking care of the strangers in his house, humming along to the loud music and feeling more at peace than he had in a while.


	2. Human

Come Sunday, Jon woke up early and put on a nice sweater, lacing his fancy shoes and combing his hair. He walked down to the ground floor of his apartment building, punched his destination into the panel on the wall, and then was whisked away in the TravelTube. In a minute he was deposited gently in front of his church, and he straightened his sweater before walking in.

The service did not begin for another ten minutes so Jon took a seat towards the back, kneeling and bowing his head. A sudden wave of guilt washed over him, just like it did every Sunday; he always thought he wasn’t living right, wasn’t doing enough, wasn’t on the right path. He just remembered how overwhelming this fear was in church, and outside the sacred place the thoughts were shoved to the far recesses of his mind. He had talked to the pastor about it a few times, but the kind man had always just reassured him and smiled benignly, pardoning his sins. Jon’s chest still hurt when he thought about it though.

This kind of behavior ruled Jon’s life. He was terrified of going broke, spending all of his money, and yet not a single stitch of his clothing that he was wearing was under one hundred dollars. He was always fretting that he would die alone and lonely, never knowing love, but just as he remembered this fear his girlfriend slid into the pew next to him, bowing her head and reaching over to squeeze his hand as they prayed.

With her there, all of his worries suddenly left his head and he smiled, leaning over to kiss her temple before bowing his own head again and mouthing the words to a familiar prayer.


	3. Guillotine

She came over and spent the night that night; they ordered take out and put on pajamas and played old movies until well past midnight. She curled up to him, her head on his chest, and within ten minutes she was fast asleep. He ran his hands gently through her hair, listening to her breathe and sitting still so he wouldn’t disturb her.

Truly, he had no idea how he had tied her down; she was gorgeous, smart, and miles out of his league. She knew he had skeletons in his closet, past regrets and secrets he never wanted seeing light; she told him her secrets and hung her clothes in his closet, right over those skeletons. He had woke her up night after night when her parents died in that terrible car crash, pulling her from dreams full of broken glass and blood and heartache. Together they had jumped on the bed, hitting each other with pillows and laughing until her tears were distant memories and she was too tired to dream.

Even though sometimes he thought a little too much, or smoked a little too much weed, or did whatever he did that was too much, she always was there to pick him up and dust him off, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

In fact, he was in love.


	4. Luxury

When they woke up, it was still night and the stars were still shining brightly. Of course, Jon had a flight early the next day; he was traveling for business and his bags were already packed and waiting by the front door.

She grinned at him, picking up a blanket and gesturing at the door. Together they went up to the roof and lay under the stars, pointing out different constellations and talking about nothing and anything. He linked his fingers with hers and said a little prayer that he would come back okay. Not only was he worried about the plane crashing – he was always terrified of flying – but also that he would lose his way like he so often did. She prayed with him, kissing his forehead and resting her hand softly on his chest as they lay together.

When the sky began to soften and the city began to wake up they gathered up the blanket and headed back inside. She went into the kitchen to make breakfast while he got dressed. She smiled and straightened his tie when he walked into the kitchen and then motioned to the table where two plates were already waiting.

“I don’t want to leave,” he told her, leaning into her touch as she caressed his cheek.

“You’ll be right back, and we’ll play basketball with the boys. It’s going to be fine,” she told him, reading the fear in his eyes and soothing his nerves. He sighed and then kissed her palm, smiling. The worry drained from his face.

“I love you,” he told her sincerely, wolfing down his breakfast. She grinned and began to eat, heart fluttering.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
